


Ball is Life

by lalagirl16



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series), Dimension 20: Fantasy High, Fantasy High
Genre: ITS ABOUT THE YEARNING, M/M, also ignore the title i dont even know, also this is post first season, i wrote this all in lou wilson's FANTASTIC character voice, idk timelines i only know yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22738927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalagirl16/pseuds/lalagirl16
Summary: Fabian has a nightmare about Riz and re-evaluates their relationship.
Relationships: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 13
Kudos: 321





	Ball is Life

Despite the fact that they weren’t friends, Fabian found that The Ball occupied an inordinate amount of space in his brain. During his Augefort fighter classes, he’d think about how The Ball was an unseen whirlwind in battle, calculating and careful, but deadly when he needed to be. Even back before they were frien- er...that was to say part of the same adventuring party, The Ball had been the reason they’d beaten the creamed corn monster. (Though the method was frankly ridiculous and disgusting, Fabian had to admit it was something he would have never thought of nor been able to pull off, simply because he was too big.) The Ball had landed the final blow on Kalvaxus, and then had proceeded to eat his face off with his sharp teeth. Needless to say, The Ball was an irreplaceable asset to the adventuring party. It was only natural that Fabian have some admiration for him then, wasn’t it?

But then again, Fabian respected all the members of his party. They all fought valiantly and bravely, but Fabian didn’t lay in his bed, completely restless, just thinking about them. Not for this long or in these strange ways. 

Except it wasn’t strange, was it? No, Fabian decided that it wasn’t strange at all to have passing thoughts about how the people you spend time around look. It wasn’t strange to think about his friend’s slim build, freckles, and unruly green hair. It wasn’t weird to think about how The Ball’s green skin would grow darker when he blushed and how Fabian would probably have to pick him up if he wanted to have Riz at the ideal level for… friendly activities. For eye contact and such. The Ball was so short it was ridiculous. That’s why he was The Ball, because he was small and nimble enough to be one. He could probably climb up Fabian like a tree. This was normal to think about. 

Fabian would also sometimes think about how The Ball looked up to him (not just in a literal sense), insisting they were “best friends” and cheering in the stands during Bloodrush games, despite looking very out of place in his too-formal clothes. Fabian supposed he could be attending for Gorgug, or perhaps even for Gorthalax, since he was dating The Ball’s mother last time Fabian checked (what was that bedroom situation like, Fabian wondered then instantly regretted wondering about). But Fabian liked to think that The Ball was coming to see him. It made him run faster, push harder, and celebrate louder. 

So, maybe Fabian was friends with The Ball. That didn’t mean their bond was anyone’s business. They were secret friends. He could never concede that to The Ball, though -- he’d get a big head about it. 

Fabian also thought a lot about what The Ball had been through on the adventure and how he was doing emotionally, though the nine hells would freeze over before Fabian let The Ball know he was thinking about all that. Fabian cared deeply for his whole party and was doing his best to consider their individual feelings and damage. It was part of his personal initiative to “Care About Others Before Himself”. If The Ball was any indication, Fabian was doing  _ fantastic.  _

This particular evening, he was thinking about the arcade. He’d dozed off and had a nightmare about The Ball, trapped in a palimpsest where Fabian couldn’t reach him and couldn’t save him. In the dream, he couldn’t remember who had done it. He’d held the palimpsest close, his teardrops hot against his hands, begging The Ball to tell him how to solve it, to please come back, to forgive him for cowering and letting him get trapped. When Fabian woke up, his comforter and 5,000 thread count sheets did nothing to calm him down or feel less alone. So, maybe that was why Fabian was thinking about The Ball. He was just reassuring himself that The Ball was alive and well. 

Fabian felt a little silly for having a nightmare about something that happened to The Ball. Wasn’t that something  _ The Ball _ should be dreaming about? They were adventurers, so they had all signed up for danger: it was part of the deal. There was little use on dwelling on close calls or the trauma of the others in his party because Fabain had plenty of things of his own to have nightmares about. Fabian hadn’t been the one trapped in the palimpsest. Yet, he still couldn’t stop wondering if The Ball thought about it, if the experience had scarred him. He couldn’t stop wondering what he would have done if they hadn’t gotten The Ball out. Would Biz have destroyed the palimpsest? Shipped The Ball off to Kalvaxus as some sort of prize? Or would Biz have kept him prisoner like he’d said he would do with the maidens, keeping Riz trapped and putting him in a machine to look at, releasing him only to… 

Rising quickly from the bed to grab his crystal, Fabian decided he’d had quite enough of thinking about The Ball. If his subconscious was so concerned about The Ball, it was best to just reset his mind by assuring it that yes, The Ball was alright and Fabian could move on to thinking about Bloodrush. Or Aelwin Abernant. Or nothing at all so he could just get some sleep. Clearly, Fabian just had to call The Ball so he could stop thinking about The Ball. It was like listening to a song that had been stuck in his head all day so he could finally get some follow-through on an empty ringing in his head. It made enough sense to Fabian, so he found The Ball’s contact and called.

“Fabian?” The Ball sounded wide awake, as was to be expected. He had also answered on the first ring, as always. It was… pleasant, having a friend that was so reliable.

“Ah, hello… The Ball.” 

“Why are you up?” 

“...I don’t know,” Fabian said. “Why are you up?”

“I’m always up,” The Ball said dryly. “I’m working a case. The work of a  _ licensed _ private investigator never ends.” 

“Yes, yes, we know,” Fabian said, feigning annoyance. “Just tell me about what you’re working on. The case or whatever.” Some shifting over the line. The sound of a mug hitting a desk. 

“You called me at three in the morning to hear about my case?” The Ball asked. Fabian did his best to perceive what The Ball might be feeling, and even over the phone he could tell that The Ball was confused, but… happy. “Do you call anyone else this early?”

“Hardly,” Fabian scoffed. “I’m never up this early, not that I need the beauty rest.” The Ball chuckled over the phone, and Fabian couldn’t help but think he might be addicted to that sound, rare as it was to hear. The Ball was usually all business, all the time. Hardly ever cocky. Fabian thought quietly to himself that The Ball was better when he was confident and should try being cocky a bit more often. 

“I’m pretty sure that means that we’re best friends,” The Ball said.

“We are  _ not _ ,” Fabian said. At the cold silence that followed, Fabian sighed and continued, his heart more open at three in the morning than he’d ever allow it to be when fully awake. “We are friends,” Fabian admitted. “But ‘best friends’ doesn’t sound… right.”

“What do you mean?” Riz asked. His voice was warm and awe-filled like it always was when he was mentally trying to decipher a new clue that he couldn’t quite understand. “It’s not… ‘right’?” Fabian nodded, not realizing right away in his sleep-deprived state that Riz couldn’t see him. He wished Riz was there to see him. He’d be a little less lonely then, and definitely a little less cold. Riz talking quietly to him in the dark… Riz curled up next to him, his head under Fabian’s chin…

“Riz,” Fabian said. “Tell me about your case. Wasn’t there a robbery or some shit?” Fabian rested his head into his pillow, giving up entirely on keeping Riz compartmentalized in his brain. He laid his crystal next to his head, on speaker, so he could pretend Riz was in the room and neither of them was alone with all these walls of Fabian’s own construction.

“Why do want to hear about my case?” Riz asked through the speaker. “I tried to tell you about it at lunch, and you just said ‘Shut up, The Ball!’ in your uppity voice.”

“My voice is not ‘uppity’,” Fabian said.

“Are you drunk or something?” Riz asked. 

“Just tired,” Fabian said, growing a bit annoyed. “I need you to bore me back to sleep with your case. Will you do it or not? I’d do the same for you, but it wouldn’t work, of course, because my adventures are  _ exciting  _ and  _ daring _ . And you can tell me about it again tomorrow. I probably won’t even remember any of this.” Fabian yawned, his point emphasized.

Riz went quiet for a bit, and Fabian was almost sure that he’d been hung up on. Which was all the same to him. He’d been reassured that Riz was fine and definitely not trapped in a palimpsest, so he could rest easy.

“‘Best friends’ doesn’t feel right to me either,” Riz admitted in a whisper. 

“What does, then?” Fabian asked, his words slurring more and more as he settled into his pillow. “I can’t figure it out.”

“Nevermind,” Riz said. “It’s stupid. But anyway, that grocery store next to Basrar’s got robbed, but the thief only took fresh produce. The only witnesses were the two cashiers and the owner’s wife, but I think she’s hiding something…”

Fabian fell asleep before long. Not because Riz’s tale had brought boredom, but rather, because it had brought him what he really craved: peace. 

**Author's Note:**

> first time writing for fantasy high whatsup


End file.
